


Future Tension

by Batkate



Series: The Bat and the Bird [6]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Apocalypse, Character Death, F/M, Friendship, Future, Mentorship, Time Travel, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 04:19:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batkate/pseuds/Batkate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 6th story in The Bat and the Bird series. Barbara finds herself getting a bearhug from a time traveling speedster who might know more than he's letting on. Set right after "Bloodlines."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Future Tension

**February 28, 2016 16:12 EST — Gotham**

_This is starting to get annoying_ , Barbara thought as she made her way out of the North Gotham subway and around the corner. Something about that last training session was wracking her brain, but she couldn't figure out what it was. It wasn't the training itself (and it certainly wasn't when she and Dick went off on their own to mess around in the hallway, which she recalled with a small smile). No it was something about her conversation with Mal, but she just couldn't put her finger on it. _I'm a detective — how can I not figure this out?_ She noted as she opened the doors to the seemingly normal "out of order" subway doors on the other side of the building. She looked down at the notes Dick gave her the other day, unfazed by the blue light surrounding her.

_Recognized: Batgirl B16_

"Hey Nightwing?" Barbara said, blindly stepping into the Cave with her eyes still down on her notes, "I've gone over the intel from the Kroloteans, but we need to—"

"BABS!"

A streak of white, red and brown came at her and before she could react, Barbara found her waist engulfed in a hug that nearly took her off her feet. Barbara looked up to chuckles from a gaggle of onlookers, including Mal, Garfield, Dick and every Flash in existence.

"Uh, guys?" Barbara coughed as the hug got tighter, "Why is there a miniature speedster collapsing my lungs?"

"That's Impulse," Garfield piped up, "He likes hugs."

"Who?" She coughed again.

"Oh, right. Introductions," the kid smiled rather shyly up at her as he released her from his grasp, "I'm Bart Allen!" Barbara blinked.

"Barry's grandson!" The kid smiled again.

"From the future," Dick added with a smirk.

"Iris is pregnant," Barry said, as if that explained everything.

"Ah," Barbara said. "Congratulations?"

"Something like that," Wally muttered. Barbara just then noticed that he'd changed into his Kid Flash uniform … odd for someone who was supposed to be retired, she thought snidely. Clearly Barbara missed something.

"Wait, so he knows my name because…"

"Well, because you're Batgirl, of course," the kid said quickly.

"Apparently we're famous in the future," Dick answered. And then like a complete dork, he added, "Not just you and me. I mean. All of us." She could help but smirk a little when she saw him blush — it was just like the moment in his bed at the manor. She kind of loved seeing him flustered. Unfortunately, everyone else saw him flustered, too. Including Impulse.

"I don't get it," he said after Mal snorted, "Did he say something funny? Is this an old-school JL inside joke or—"

"Hey Bart!" Dick said hastily as he walked up to them, "It's looking like you'll be around for a while, so we better figure out where you'll be staying."

Bart's eyes fell a little. "Oh. I can't stay here? 'Cause I really want to meet everyone. Like, Troia and Blue Beetle and—"

"Hey kiddo," Barbara said gently, putting her hand on his shoulder, "why don't you and I go into the kitchen and make you a sandwich?"

His ears perked up. "Y-yeah! Yeah, that's crash!"

Barbara blinked.

"Crash is good," Dick whispered to her. They shared a look and something clicked in Bart.

"Oh!" he said, "Are you two dating alrea—"

"Okay, let's go!" Barbara said as she hooked the kid's arm and pulled him towards the kitchen.

**January 1, 2055 — The Bludhaven Ruins**

"Hey, I'm back!" Bart called out as he passed through the security doors.

"Everything went well?"

"I think so," he said while carefully taking off his backpack. The inner room of the safe house was lit softly. He could make out her silhouette against the blue green glow of her seemingly infinite monitors.

"You think so, or you know so?" She turned her head and gave him a look over her shoulder.

"I know so," Bart answered as he approached her.

"Much better," she smiled and returned to the screens.

"You were right," he carefully put the bag on the dash and unzipped the top, "The whole place was untouched. Can't believe they haven't found a way in yet."

"I'm still not sure they know that it's there," she said, "They ransacked Star Labs decades ago, so they would have gone after the warehouse then if they knew. Besides, Adam Strange always knew how to do security right and even they would have trouble getting in without it locking down, which is why I didn't send you in until I knew we had the right codes." She pulled her hair back into a loose bun, the grey and white locks in stark contrast to her faded red. "So what did you find, zip?"

"Not a lot there as far as tech. Just a bunch of busted down vehicles and this hard drive," he unwrapped the drive from the jacket used to cushion it during the long trip back and handed it to her.

"Good, it looks like it isn't damaged," she muttered as she examined it and connected it to the room's computers. "If Nightwing's intel was right about this, we could finally get back the zeta tube tech. No more sneaking out when we need supplies from the other bases." She squeezed his arm. "Anything else?"

He smiled before taking out the rest of the content — ten cans of food. She smiled.

"I see you left the best for last, Bart."

"Well," the 12 year-old said sheepishly, "I wasn't sure if they're even good anymore. The 'best by' date is 2019."

"A good year," she joked while inspecting one of the cans. "The seal is intact on these. Might as well try." After finding the rarely used can opener, the duo chose to share beef and barley stew — warmed on their barely holding-on hotplate — with a side of peaches. It might as well have been a feast as far as Bart was concerned.

"Worlds better than the soy packets, huh?" She smiled at him. It was the same smile she gave him when she first brought him home to their safe house; he was amazed he got a real mattress to sleep on. Looking back it wasn't really much, but it was so much better than his dirty cot at the workcamp. But she promised him he'd never have to go back there. Never again.

"Penny for your thoughts, zip?" she nudged him back to reality.

"I was thinking …" he smiled, "that you look really nice tonight." She returned the smile, her eyes warm behind her worn face.

"Say," she said as she stretched arms and went back to searching the hard drive, "did I ever tell you how the old team saved Christmas?"

He knew that story inside and out; he shook his head anyway.

"… So then Wally," she continued as she opened another set of files, "to add insult to injury, sped by Freeze and disassembled his gun."

"What did he say?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"'Sorry to give you the cold shoulder this Christmas,'" she said, doing the voice she always used for Kid Flash.

"Oh man," Bart groaned, "That is so corny!"

"Not one of his best quips, I'm afraid. I recall Dick giving him such crap for that." Her grin faded as she thought about it. Most days Bart forgot Barbara was nearly 60 years old — she had the energy, the drive of someone half her age. But then he'd see that look on her face when she remembered the time before … it scared him to see her so tired.

"Hey Babs? Do you want the last peach?" he tried, holding the almost empty can towards her. She looked at the can for a moment before laughing and pulling him towards her for a hug.

"You're the sweetest, Bart. What would I do without you?" she messed up his hair before let him go. She took off her glasses to wipe her eyes with her sleeve.

"I better get back to this thing. You want to do some powerbiking?"

Bart nodded and dashed over to the equipment. He honestly loved using the thing; not only could he move for once, but the power it generated kept them off the Reach's power grid, so using it made him feel useful. And as he started to pick up speed, he could close his eyes and almost imagine he was full-out running.

"Wait…" she let the word fall away as she leaned in and squinted towards the screen. Her eyes found comprehension. "Oh my god," she gasped softly.

"What?" he asked, flashing to her side to make sure she was alright.

"This isn't zeta technology," she said as she stared at the blueprints spread across the screen. "I mean, he always talked about it, but it was always in theory." Her hand went to her mouth. "I can't believe he figured it out."

"What? What is it?" He could barely read the scribbled out notes and the sketch just looked like stubby rocket without boosters.

"Dilated time displacement," she said in awe, "It's a time machine."

Silence filled the room. Shocked, Bart plopped down in his chair. "What," he stammered, "what does this mean, Babs?"

"It means," her open mouth curved into a grin, "we could change everything. Shit," she breathed out, "we always joked about what we'd do if we could go back—"

"You mean we really can stop the invasion before it even began?" he said, hope seeping into his voice.

"Maybe. I mean, it going to be difficult," she went back to the notes on the screen, "Really damn difficult. The scrap metal isn't going to be a problem getting, but some of these items could be hard to track. The other bases can help us, but it'll take months to calibrate everything perfectly. And even then …" She trailed off.

"What?"

She turned to him, choosing her words carefully. "With the power it takes to make this work, there's only enough for one person and it will short out the circuits. Whoever goes … they aren't coming back." Her words hung in the air. Bart opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the middle screen flashing, "Base A." Barbara flipped the switch near her keyboard to bring up communications.

"Nightwing," she said quickly, "you're not going to believe what Bart found in Strange's warehouse. It could—"

"O, you need to listen to me," the aging man said, "they know where you are."

Barbara's face went dark. "What are you talking about?"

"There was a spike in the power four hours ago. They traced it to you." His voice was always stern, cold even, but now there was the unfamiliar twinge of panic. Nightwing never panicked.

"How much time do we have?" she asked.

"15 minutes at most."

The situation hit them both hard. Bart stared at her; she looked at the files on the other screens.

"Right," she exhales, "That's just enough time to get everything backed up on the hard drive."

"O, you can't be serious!" Nightwing said.

"Of course I'm serious," her hands started typing away, setting the system for backup.

"Listen to me," Nightwing tried again, "You need to get as far away from C base as possible before they arrive."

"I'm not going to let decades of my work get into the hands of those sick green fucks. Bart, get the cables." Bart moved fast, getting the right cables in the right places like he had a dozen times before. Even as he crawled under the monitors, the argument escalated.

"O," Bart heard Nightwing grit, "this isn't up for discussion!"

"You don't know what we've found, D!"

"I don't care, Gordon. This is an order. You and Allen will leave immediat—"

" _Damian Wayne_ ," she snapped. Bart froze and so did Nightwing. She shut her eyes tight before taking a deep breath and continuing, "Damian, if that symbol on your chest means anything to you, you'll remember what your namesake made you promise."

Like Barbara, Nightwing had never seemed truly old despite being nearly 40. But he looked it now as he watched Barbara start the process.

"D," Barbara's tone softened, "what we found in Strange's notes could stop all of this. You need to trust me."

"Yes," he finally said, "I know I do."

"Keep an eye out in the next hour, alright? That hard drive needs to get to you."

"Understood," he grimaced, "Nightwing out."

It was another three minutes of scrambling to prepare everything for travel before they could hear banging from above their bunker.

"Come on, let's go!" Bart said as he quickly packed the last of the precious food cans.

She didn't answer him.

"Barbara, come on," he turned to her, hoping she just didn't hear him, "We need to get out of here."

"Bart," she said, "you know I can't keep up with you."

"We can go slower. We'll sneak out of here."

"Bart—"

"Or I can carry you!" he said.

"Bart, I'm too heavy for you. I'm dead weight." She said it so matter-of-factly and Bart couldn't understand it.

"No," he shook his head weakly. "I'm not going to leave—" He was cut off by a loud banging.

"They're through the entryway," Barbara muttered as she looked towards the doors. She turned back to face him. "How much longer do we have for the backup?"

He tried to steady his voice as he answered. "Five minutes."

"Good, get behind the system," she put Strange's hard drive back into his bag and handed it to him along with a black flash drive. "Put this into the computer as soon as you take the other flash drive out. It will erase everything in the system." She grabbed his arm so that he looked down at her eyes. "Now this is important. I'm going to distract them; no matter what you hear, promise me you'll stay behind the system and be quiet."

"But what if—"

"Promise me," she said harshly.

Trying not to cry, he nodded. "I promise, Barbara."

"You remember how to open the backwall panel behind the monitors, right?"

He nodded again.

"The very moment you put the black flash drive in, open the panel and run. Run as fast as you can to Base A and don't stop until you're there."

He closed his eyes. "I'll make it."

She squeezed his arm and when he opened his eyes, she was smiling up at him. "I know you will, zip. You're going to do me prou—"

The inner doors banged hard. Barbara gave one more nod to Bart before zipped under the desk and around to the usb port, hidden out of sight. 88% done. He found a small sliver to look through into the main room — Barbara turned to face the door, her decades old escrimas at hand.

He heard the doors smashed open, heavy footsteps echoing off the safehouse's high ceiling. Then came a voice he recognized — it was deep and cold and it almost made his heart stop.

"Well, if it isn't Barbara Gordon."

"Jaime," she said calmly. The monster gritted at the name, but kept a smirk.

"How long has it been? 15 years?"

"18," she answered flatly, "and 3 months."

"Of course," he said, "I suppose it must be easy for a meatsack to remember the day they were broken." Bart could just barely see her hands grip the wheels of her chair. Blue Beetle grew a crocodile smile.

"I have to say," he moved toward her, "I didn't expect the infamous Oracle to be so …" he looked down at her, "limited."

93%. Bart gulped.

"You're awfully chatty, Jaime," she sneered, still looking toward the door.

He grinned again. "I like to play with my meat." 98%

Come on, you stupid flash drive, Bart thought as his panic rose.

"You were out of our grasp for so long, Oracle," Beetle walked dangerously close to the console, "And you still lo—" Bart saw him turn away towards the side wall. "Why would you have a bike?"

100% Bart's heart raced as he took out the flash drive, but in his speed the black flash drive dropped out of his hand. The plastic made a tiny clank as it hit the linoleum. Bart slowly reached for the drive, just out of reach. Barbara could see him below the desk and she tensed for just a moment before—

"Hey hermano!" she shouted, throwing a escrima and hitting the Beetle's head with a thunk, "While I have you here, I have a question I always wanted to ask." He turned towards her, growling, but she rolled right up to him and looked him right in the eye.

With a dark glare, she sneered, "Whatever happened to Cassie?"

Just as Bart had the flash drive in his palm, he heard a loud smack — Barbara landed hard on the floor. Bart froze, his eyes locked on her. She glanced towards him and managed to mouth "Run" before Beetle grabbed her by the neck and pulled her up to his face.

In an instant, Bart scrambled back, put in the right flash drive, grabbed his bag, moved the wall panel and ran. He didn't stop — not when the shots fired at him. Not when the sleet hit his face. Not even as he was running out the building and heard a blast behind him. He just kept running.

**February 28, 2016 16:49 EST — Mount Justice**

"Everything okay, kiddo?"

"Huh?" Bart blinked.

"You've been quiet and you keep looking at me funny," Barbara said as she took another bite of her sandwich, "Do I have mustard on my face or something?" She wiped her mouth on instinct.

"Uh, no. It's just … you look really pretty." He smiled sheepishly across from her at the counter. He was sweet … strange, but sweet.

"Oh. Well, thank you," she said, still confused, "But you're a little young for me."

"Oh, not like that," he said quickly, "I mean, don't get me wrong, you're really pretty and totally crash and—" he blushed, "Well anyway, I wouldn't want to make an enemy of Dick Grayson."

"Nightwing," she corrected him sternly, "And I don't know what you're talking about."

"Well," he smiled, "it's pretty obvious the way you were giving each other googly eyes. Plus, this is 2016, right? From what I know, you should be dating him by now."

She furrowed her brow. "Are you telling me the future has my love life on record?"

The kid coughed. "Boy, you make a really crash sandwich!" Barbara eyed him as he put his attention towards his plate. This future kid was clearly hiding something but she wasn't sure she could coax it out of him. Yet.

"So," Bart said as he took the last bite of his sandwich, "D'you think you and Grayson will get married?"

"Okay, lunch is over!" she said a little too loudly. Putting their plates in the sink, Barbara remembered the one other thing besides food that could distract a speedster.

"Hey, you want to go for a run on the beach?"

His face lit up. "Y—yeah!"

"I mean," she leaned on the counter, "I'm not going to be able to keep up with you, but—"

"That's okay!" he zipped around to her side, "We could just walk, even."

Before she could respond, Barbara found herself being pulled through the Cave. Back in the main room, Bart called out, "We're going to the beach!" before Barry or anyone else could argue. Barbara was able to share a look with Dick, who smiled almost adoringly at her while Bart got her through the entryway. She couldn't help but smile back.

**February 28, 2056 10:05 EST — Mount Justice**

_Just a few more alterations_ , Bart thought as he knelt down and adjusted the wires. In the last year, he had memorized every aspect of the blueprints. Everything needed to be perfect. Everything would be perfect.

"I wish I could go along," Nathanial said behind him.

"Sorry, only seats one," he replied shortly.

"You understand the trip to the past will fry the machine's circuitry. This is a one way ticket."

Faces flashed through Bart's mind. The crew from Base A incinerated. Damian gutted. Lian taken in for "questioning." Barbara hitting the floor. He turned to Nathanial with a grimace.

"Does this _look_ like a future worth returning to?"


End file.
